Engineers Prefer Brunettes
by Kara
Summary: Gentlemen prefer blonds, but engineers prefer brunettes. Post *Stigma* fic - T/R Slashfic.


Title: Engineers Prefer Brunettes  
  
Author: Kara  
  
Author's E-mail: anyalindir@aol.com  
  
Rating: PG  
  
Genre: Slash  
  
Pairing(s): T/R Spoilers: Stigma  
  
Summary: Gentlemen prefer blondes, but a certain engineer prefers short, dark,   
and handsome.  
  
Comments: So very not mine. If they were, there wouldn't be any of this 'alien   
of the week' crap.  
  
She was a shapely blond, but something about her smile wasn't right. Maybe   
because it was a little too wide and reminiscent of Dr. Phlox's for his taste.   
Or maybe because it didn't belong to a lithe armory officer with dark hair and   
smoky gray eyes.  
  
Trip groaned, burying his face in his arms. Even pecan pie had no appeal at this   
moment. At least the mess hall was deserted at the late hour. He didn't really   
feel like company right now. The God of his Southern Baptist roots was laughing   
his ass off somewhere. It had to be the pheromones. There was no other   
explanation.  
  
"Is this seat taken, Commander?"  
  
He looked up, not surprised to find Malcolm smirking at him, tray in hand. Hoshi   
and Travis hovered over the Lieutenant's shoulder, worried looks on their faces.   
The mess hall was empty, but of course the armory officer decided to sit at his   
table, wearing the same shit-eating grin as when Jon and Malcolm caught him   
running around that swamp in his underwear.  
  
"Make yerselves at home." Trip waved his hand at the empty chairs. "Have some   
pie while yer at it."  
  
"Knickers in a knot, Commander?" Malcolm's grin widened. "Unless it's because a   
blond Denobulan left."  
  
"Malcolm!" Hoshi swatted at the armory officer. "It's not like the Commander   
tried to play footsie with you." She squeaked when Trip aimed his plate of pie   
at her.  
  
"Easy, Trip." Malcolm took the plate out of Trip's hand, settling it back on the   
table. "She's gone now, so you needn't worry about Phlox finding out."  
  
"Dr. Phlox finding out what?" Travis' dark eyes turned towards Trip, and he   
covered his face with his hands again. Once Hoshi and Travis knew something, it   
was inevitable that the whole crew would know it in about fifteen minutes. They   
didn't have a reputation as Enterprise's two biggest gossips for nothing.  
  
"I don't get it. What do they see in him?" Trip uncovered his eyes and found   
Hoshi sloshing her spoon around in what looked like ice cream soup.  
  
"Who, Hosh?" He wouldn't let his eyes stray to Malcolm. It was bad enough trying   
not to look at the armory officer on any other day, but after the Lieutenant   
admitted he found Mrs. Feezal Phlox attractive, Trip just wanted to crawl into   
some hole in the earth and die somewhere.  
  
"You, baka. Ah'Len, Liana, that Kaitaama Princess Pain in the Ass." The   
Communications officer actually scowled. "What's wrong with human women? Liz   
always said she thought you and Sub-Commander T'Pol had sparks, and then you go   
and hit on all those other alien women."  
  
"Who you callin' stupid?" Trip shoved back his chair. It was bad enough that   
Malcolm was still laughing at him. And it wasn't like he was deaf to Dr. and   
Mrs. Phlox's little snickers when he left Sickbay. That 'humans' comment sounded   
just like something her High and Mighty Pointy-Ears would say. It was bad enough   
that Feezal's double-entendres were enough to make him blush. And that whole   
sniffing thing.  
  
Malcolm put a hand on his shoulder, holding Trip down before he could run   
anywhere. "Easy, Trip. We didn't mean anything by it. It just seems like a week   
doesn't go by when you haven't snogged a new species." There was an almost   
wistful look on the Lieutenant's face. "If there were merit badges for that,   
you'd have more than I do."  
  
"The whole thing with Ah'Len don't count, because she tricked me. More or less   
assaulted me. And Liana." What could he say about her? She liked ice cream.   
Kinda reminded him of his little sister Sara when she was a kid, begging with   
her eyes for a new treat. "And Kaitaama forced herself on me. The whole thing   
was just plain stupid." He could feel his ears burning. Travis and Hoshi kept   
staring at him, while at least Malcolm had the decency to drop his eyes. It   
wasn't as if Trip desired any of the alien women. He wanted the man sitting in   
front of him, but even getting drunk with someone in a shuttlepod wasn't grounds   
for declaring your eternal urge to snog them senseless.  
  
There was a moment of welcomed silence.  
  
"Why didn't you, Trip?" Hoshi's dark eyes looked worried, or even ashamed.   
"We're out here to explore, and there's nothing wrong with exploring other   
cultures. Especially if you find them.attractive." Her cheeks turned a faint   
pink color. Trip did remember Liz Cutler badgering Hoshi about some guy on Risa.   
Maybe their little ensign was growing up.  
  
"Maybe they ain't what I was lookin' for, Ensign," Trip snapped. When Hoshi   
flinched, he sighed and ran a hand through his hair. "Y'ever think of that? It   
ain't like there's a whole range of choice out here, and if you've got yer mind   
set on somethin' specific, not just anything'll satisfy you."  
  
"There are some who prefer their own species, Ensign," Malcolm added with a   
slight smile. The Lieutenant's gray eyes met Trip's, and he had to stop himself   
from drowning in them.  
  
Or those who preferred their own sex. Especially if that particular person was   
small, dark and handsome as all hell.  
  
Malcolm opened his mouth as if he was going to say something else. There was an   
almost sympathetic look on the Brit's face. Trip leaned forward to stare deeper   
into the other man's eyes. He wouldn't mind drowning in their smoky depths if it   
meant getting to know the armory officer better. They were good friends now, had   
been ever since the whole shuttlepod thing. Hell, Malcolm had even forgiven him   
for Risa. But Trip couldn't help wanting more. Just like he couldn't help alien   
women flocking to him. And he wasn't even gonna think about the whole interlude   
with Zho'Khan.  
  
Trip heard a cough next to him, and the sound of two chair being pushed back.   
Someone muttered good night to him, but he only waved in return. Yeah, there was   
something definitely drownable about Malcolm Reed's eyes. Something vulnerable   
about the constantly worried eyebrows and the sharp cheekbones. Something   
kissable about his half-quirked smile.  
  
"Trip?" Malcolm's voice was hesitant, almost as if he was afraid to break the   
silence.  
  
"Yeah?" The other man was almost close enough for Trip to feel Malcolm's warm   
breath on his face.  
  
"Why not the other women?"  
  
The engineer decided to take a chance. Yeah, it could ruin his friendship with   
the man sitting next to him, but four years together and not speaking on the   
same ship wasn't too long a time. And they were out there for adventure.  
  
Trip reached out and traced Malcolm's lips with a shaking finger. The armory   
officer's mouth brushed against his finger in a soft kiss. "Maybe that's   
somethin' I should answer in private."  
  
Malcolm choked. "My quarters or yours?"  
  
*~*~*~*~*~*~*  
  
"Why not the alien women?" Malcolm's voice was drowsy as he rolled over and   
nuzzled Trip's neck with his lips.  
  
Trip shifted in the narrow bunk, spooning closer to the armory officer's warm   
body. He could think of a thousand answers for why. The sex wouldn't have been   
that great. None of the women had the right accent or sense of humor. They had   
no shared realm of experience. None of them were Malcolm Reed.  
  
"Cuz gentlemen men prefer blonds, but engineers like brunettes. Didn't yer mama   
ever tell you that?" He leaned in to kiss Malcolm's nose.  
  
The armory officer chuckled, a low and terribly sex laugh. "I guess that means   
that I'm a gentleman."  
  
"My gentleman," Trip growled, rolling on top of his lover with a leer. And that   
was the end of that discussion. 


End file.
